Allan Hood
by whytewytch
Summary: Robin is dead, the gang a shambles, but the poor still need help. Who will fill the gap? Duh, read the title!


**Title: **Allan Hood  
**Author: **whytewytch4  
**Word Count:** 1119  
**Rating: **PG  
**Characters:** Allan, Guy, Little John, Much  
**Disclaimer:** Tiger Aspect and the BBC own the rights to Robin Hood 2006. No copyright infringement is intended. No money is being made.  
**Summary: **Nottingham is rubble, their leader dead. What happens now?

**A/N:** Written for "Treat Allan Right" on a Live Journal intercomm competition. Most of my "TAR" stories are unbeta-ed, so let me know please about glaring mistakes I may have missed.

* * *

It was over. Nottingham lay in ruins. Allan, Little John, and Much had made it out, half-dragging the limp form of Guy, who was fighting the effects of the poison in his system. Allan and Little John had found a wise woman in the forest outside of Clun who offered to take him in and look after him before they had returned to camp, hoping to find the others. The camp was empty, and so, with trepidation, they had made their way back to the outskirts of Sherwood near Nottingham to check in with Much, who they found quite alone. Fearing the worst, they made their way into the town.

They went in with their cloaks pulled over their faces and skulked along, speaking quietly to the residents. They listened at the doorways of those who were loyal to Prince John and his lot. The news remained the same. Robin Hood was dead, although no one had seen his body yet. They found the remains of Tuck and Archer—Tuck the only black man in a pile of dead freedom fighters; Archer, as Robin's half-brother, had his head on display on a pike; of Kate there was no sign.

With their enemies, things were not much better—Isabella was dead and buried; Vasey, like a cockroach, had managed to escape virtually unscathed, suffering a broken leg that had him laid up in his bed, screaming like a banshee and throwing whatever came to hand at whoever was in range.

Soberly, they made their way out of Nottingham and back to camp, where they sat in stunned silence. Allan was the first to speak, comforting Much, who was sobbing from a broken heart.

"You two stay 'ere. I'm goin' to get some firewood. I'll be back in a bit."

Little John nodded solemnly; Much did not respond.

Allan rose and made his way laboriously from the camp—they needed a fire or their muscles would seize up in the night, making them stiff and sore, particularly John. They needed food so they would not lose their strength. And they needed to leave this place before the sheriff recovered and Prince John exacted his revenge for the rebellion. A part of Allan wanted to just keep walking—his feelings were still bruised from the gang's easy distrust of him, but the truth was, if he had not been tied up, joining in the fight much later, he might have been lying in that pile of dead peasants with Tuck. Even though they had turned their backs on him, Little John and Much still needed him, and he would take care of them.

* * *

The days went by and Allan slowly began to assume the mantle of leadership—it was never spoken of, but he automatically was the one to send John to catch some rabbits or a deer, and to assign Much to clean and cook them. The activity seemed to do the two some good. Allan, meanwhile, kept busy by checking on Guy, who was slowly recovering thanks to the wise woman and her pretty little daughter; the daughter seemed quite taken with the former sheriff's man, and fussed over him like a mother hen. Allan had a chuckle at Guy's expense every time he visited.

On his way to and from his visits to Guy, Allan would stop in the villages to hear the latest gossip, and a disturbing picture began to form. It seemed the sheriff was recovering, and Prince John was indeed most displeased with Nottingham. He had set a high price on the heads of the remaining outlaws, including in particular, Gisbourne. The citizens of the villages were quick to point out that, despite the rumored death of Robin Hood, they still supported the outlaws, and would hide them in exchange for their help in obtaining food and money for taxes. Allan quickly came to the conclusion that they would be safer in and around Nottingham, where they knew the forest and had the support of the locals, then trying to move on and hope that the other villagers would not turn them in. He was not sure how the locals would feel about Guy, who had so tormented them, but was sure he could use his silver tongue to convince them to give Gisbourne a chance, particularly since they had forgiven him for his own transgressions when he had worked with Guy under the sheriff.

* * *

It was nearly a month later that Guy joined Allan, Little John, and Much in the camp. Day by day, men had been coming to the forest, wanting to be part of Alln's gang, until Allan had had to turn help away, insisting that they would be of better use as spies in the villages and the castle. Even so, the gang was larger than it had ever been under Robin, and Allan wound up splitting the men into groups that he interspersed throughout the forest.

Guy was surprised to find so many men in the outlaws' camp, despite Allan's forming new groups. Allan watched uneasily as Guy was introduced to the two members who remained in the main camp—Sam, who had once been one of Guy's guard, and Harold, a former blacksmith whose family had suffered much at Vasey's hands, and who had come to blows on more than one occasion with Guy.

Allan watched the recognition light the men's eyes; even though he had prepared the men beforehand, he watched carefully as Sam's eyes darted around and Harold's eyes hardened. Harold was a large man, giving Little John a run for his money in strength—if he decided to attack Guy, who no longer had the protection of his guard, then Gisbourne would definitely suffer setbacks to his health.

Guy looked steadily at each man before he spoke.

"I am sorry. Truly sorry. For every bad thing I have done to you, your families, and your neighbors. I know I can never make it up to you, but I would like to try by joining the fight."

Sam and Harold hesitated, Sam smiling shyly at his former boss, Harold raising a distrusting eyebrow. Guy held out his hand, and the tension was broken, Allan sighing in relief as the men took and shook the outstretched limb each in his turn—the speech he had made Guy practice had worked.

"Now then, gents—there's people starvin' still, and it seems we've made the sheriff and P.J. a might angrier. Wot're we goin' to do about it?"

They all settled down by the fire to hear their leader's audacious plan, sharing wide grins at the idea of once more thumbing their noses at the sheriff of Nottingham and Prince John.

* * *

**A/N: **This is how I wanted it to be, so I don't care if Guy seems out of character. He COULD have been changed by all that happened just this quickly, though. Please do not flame me for killing off Archer, Tuck, and Kate--they did not belong to the gang, not truly to me, and I was mortified when they remained alive while members of the "old" gang died; this is also why I killed off Isabella, with whom I sypathized until S3/12, when she made my "most evil of evils" list by her actions and their result.

**Thanks to andie14 for catching a spelling error!**


End file.
